Acceptance

'You win'.

With those words the battle I was fighting for the past one year came to an end.
Its been a couple of months now,
And the feeling still doesn't sink in.

Just like that in a moment everyone was with me.
Smiling with me and cheering for me.
There have been meetings and gatherings since.

It all looks like a dream.
Still afraid that I will wake up to find myself alone.

Here's to hoping that this new found love stays,
Stays between me, my people.
Amen.


Cheers, to new beginnings!

Raise 'her' voice

Wondering about when should a girl raise her voice.

When she first got slapped from her father?
When she first got verbally abused by her mother?
When she first got physically violated by a stranger?
When she first got physically violated by a relative?

There are hundreds of incidents of physical, mental, emotional abuse that women face everyday, especially in a patriarchal society like ours in India. These are hundreds that find their way into the documents. But what about the ones we are never told to speak of. For our mothers and fathers (at least of my generation) told to keep the family dignity at the top of our priority pyramid and the self at the bottom.

What about them?

When does the girl speak up about those?

Tell her to speak now, Tell her to speak always, Tell her to speak uninhibitedly.

Tell your mother, Tell your sister, Tell your wife, Tell your friend.. to SPEAK UP.

Instances and incidents leave an indelible mark on our hearts and souls.

Ones which no amount of love and affection from any soul can erase.

For abuse once done to 'me', becomes a part of 'me'.

SPEAK UP, GIRL and LET THEM SPEAK, BOY.

P.S. This note in no way undermines the abuses meted out to the boys and men in society. 

The green grass by the river

There is nothing, yet there is vastness around.

Far and wide you stretch,

Meandering through the rough corners.

Making your own way as you go along,

You change form but you do not cease to exist.

You are a story of strength and valor that no one sees or reads,

There is a calmness in you that brings me alive.

Iridescence is thy other name,
There is music, there are books, there is you and there is life.

I wish each day was here by your side.
I wish I lay there by the river with the mountain behind me each day, every day.

Notes from a daughter

In India, having children is not a desire. It is a progression of steps.

Step 1: Grow up to a be a well earning man and an educated woman.  A woman is not obligated or motivated or desired to have a job, to have professional aspirations. We like the home-maker female. If a woman works, great, but that doesn’t entitle her to have opinions and decision making powers.

Step 2: Get married. This is a whole lot of work. Mostly according to your parent’s choice because obviously the marriage is about them, their status, their aspirations not your life. (If you thought of the latter, then you must be from the ‘progressive family’. Ah! How I hate the progressive.

Step 3: Have a child. This is also a whole lot of work, physically for the mother and financially for the father. We are very clear that we want the woman to never ever think of money, financial independence. We take that stress on a woman very seriously. Why should she? She has a husband after all. And if the husband can’t provide, then there are definite questions about his masculinity.

After the first 3 are done, you are considered a happy family, the perfect ‘man’ with a ‘perfect’ family. (We are very generous/casual with the adjectives these days and we use them in superlative only, awesomest couple, Handsomest man I have ever seen) (Also, as an after thought I wonder, having already seen the best in world and spent the words on it, do these people live anymore or see anything new?) In process, the man would have bought a house and added an extra star on his greatness.

There are numerous books in the bookstores, amazons and flipkarts on ‘parenting’. But trust me there is no rule book. I am guilty of saying it without having borne a child because according to me it is analogous to books on ‘How to be an adult?’, ‘How to be an excellent daughter?’, etc. Not worthy a look, books. Life is in an ever spinning change, there is no rule book that can help. The rule books come with the Macs and Samsungs, not humans. If it had to, then I am sure a baby would have been sent with one tied to its umbilical cord by the Lord.

So, oblivious of everything years pass on and given that one earned, parents take their children to the best of English medium schools, colleges and ensure that they have academically bright students. They may on the sidelines have hobbies of arts, music, sports, etc. but those are strictly ‘hobbies’. Please do not confuse them with things you (the child) want to dedicate your life and time to. It doesn’t pay, it doesn’t earn them respect amongst their peers, it doesn’t get you married. Trust me, the parents have their list sorted. It exists and it is the universal truth, like the ‘sun rises in east’. That kind of truth.

What parents do not realize or take cognizance of in the process is that time passed and children grew with the times. The ideas, views opened up; especially for their children, girl and boy alike. So one day, when the same daughter stands in front of them with an opinion, they are left dumbstruck. At first it is admiration that my daughter is well aware about G.K., news events but when one sees that this persists it is horror; of the worst kind. How did that happen? More importantly, when did that happen? She was right under our nose and she grew wings; of the worst kind? She wants to have a career, live independently, talk to all human beings alike, treat everyone alike, try different experiences without fear, love the man of her choice? Is this even permitted? Ah! The permit giving agency strikes again. Society. (Sorry, I didn’t mention it earlier) (Society shall be discussed later, at length)

As children we are always trying to stay in touch with our parents, bring them up to date with things in our life. We respect them very much for being our parents, for giving us the education (the one weapon which according to them probably did us more harm than good). At no point in time, do we want to leave them or abandon them or not care about them. But we do want to live our lives, our way. If we make mistakes, we want it to be ours. If we are victorious, we want to share it with you. If we are happy, we want to share it with you. We are not leaving you behind, we want you to be with us in our times, in our happiness. Just be open to walking with us and not taking us back into time and passages you walked through to bring us here.

P.S. This is a rambling note. No apologies extended.

Boxed

Lying there, I wonder what time is it.

Is the day still there? Has the night set in?

Is it finally the quiet I needed to hear?

I try very hard but still nothing.

I can’t hear my own thoughts, my voice.

I can only hear my breath, fighting for the next gulp of air.

Even the night’s silence does not help me open it.

Its locked tightly and I can’t find a way to open the lock.

The moment and me are still not in the right combination.

I need to unravel the storm in me. There is no other way out.

For this storm can only break me open from this box of void.

The changing face of dating

These are the days of love comes, love goes.
At tinder speed.

It is not love as they say.
It is having fun.
Living the life.

Drinks today, followed by chatting  sessions all night,
Few days (or may be not even that) and then we slide into casual sex.
And then when we get bored, we are out of it.
Both sexes are comfortable with this scene.

Off late, it makes me wonder if I come from a different generation.
(I know I am knocking on my thirty but still..)
All one wanted was a companion, not an ever changing sex partner
Does this change make one difficult to connect with oneself?
Am I different person every day for every date?

I am all for casual flirting but this is different.
It is the phase when your ego needs you to be seen with a prettier/handsomer face often.
It is the phase when knocking down more chicks/guys is the counter that makes you cool/cool-er.
It is the phase where dinner and movie dates have to be checked in.

Have the good old dating and 'casanova' days gone?
Has it all become so facetious and so glib?

Acknowledging the workaholic

I was a decent student in school.

Did my work, did fine in classroom, tests, well groomed and well behaved.

No complaints that went home..so yes, a decent student. But never a hyper hard working one.

School to Engineering to IRMA. It was pretty much a straight line graph with engineering being the trough in my academic career.

In the middle of this I went to Infosys and put the engineering to work desk. The good part about Infosys was work was done in office and stayed in office. The after office hours were mine and the weekend was definitely mine.

After IRMA I joined CMS. I was given work on Day one, even before my induction happened. I should have reckoned the signs then. However, I liked the work. It was interesting, so I worked. and I worked and worked.

Now work is a part of me. It is the song that runs in my background. I make my lists on my Google note on the go. I plan my after office hours also to include that 1 hour or 2 hours of work.  Like I pre-prepare before meetings, presentations, review my reports. I think I am a workaholic to a certain extent. I do acknowledge that. Never did I imagine that I would be this crazy and obsessed about work.

Frankly speaking at this point in life, I like it because the work is interesting, it helps me learn new things, new study designs, new people, new projects. Personally life hasn't taken much of a hit from this as I manage to remember my parents everyday, take a few trips here and there with friends and family and have a few sunday sundays. :) 

Given, that the recognition has started coming in, so I say lets keep the workaholic alive longer. 

P.S.: The BIG trip is happening. Amreeka, here I come. *wide grins*

The Meddler

Time and again, we let her come.

She has become ubiquitous in our lives.
Serenading in and out of the realms of our mind leaving a thousand of her questions;

"Was I right?
Did I deserve it?
What if she was lying?
What if black is my color?
What if I was never truly loved?"
....

Her questions are incessant and pricking and torturing.

We are puppets in her hand.
Laughing when she cracks a joke,
Crying when she cracks my relations, and
Yearning when she leaves me feeling loveless.

Just for one moment, let us stop and look her in the eye.
She does not exist yet she controls us, for our love for her empowers her.
She only burns and blanches our mind and soul.
We need to let her go. We need to let 'the past' go.

The answers hold no meaning,
The righteous, the evil doer, the good, the bad, the ugly. None hold any meaning and significance.
After all truth is nothing but my very own version of my reality.

Walking with her (the past) is like driving with our eyes in the rear view mirror all the time. We are bound to crash and plunge. So let's take our eyes off and move ahead with bountiful of life in our hands.

P.S.: Look out for the hidden treasure of happiness in 'Her' kitty.

The starry night

The night opens its arms to me,

Nothing between you and me.

You waltz me away,

The stars are our dancing companions,

My glass is filled with mirth,

Yours with me.

The evening augurs of the coming calmness and love.

In your eyes, I see myself.

Wild, honest and as eccentric,

And yet you do not change me or my reflection.

I may just have turned lucky.

P.S.: As a friend says, to find and fall in love amidst our concrete jungles, head to Olive Bistro, Jubilee Hills, Hyderabad

All I want....is a lot of many

All I want

Is a cot,
A book by the side,
My ashtray nudging it,
A half drunk glass of my rum.
Alone, blank and lost.

OR

Is your lap,
My head on it.
Your hands caressing by body,
Our embrace comforting me.
Warm, lost and loved.

OR

Is my backpack on my shoulder,
An open field of wilderness in front of me,
No destination, no baggage.
Lost, not so-lost and at peace.

One two many...what does thou, future have for me.

P.S.: All I want-Kodaline, must listen :)

Tales from my body

Just lay still,
That's all I ask.

Don't move an inch,
I am comfortable as I am.

Don't turn your back,
It hurts.

Don't raise your arm on me,
It hurts.

Don't laugh too hard on me,
It hurts.

Don't run from me,
It hurts.

You never bothered to keep me better,
Now I hurt you, every inch of your body does.


P.S.: 2016 is here, so let's do this. :)